


realities change

by greenfelix (literallyepsilon)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: I don't know how to explain this, M/M, altered realities au, its angsty with a happy ending though Promise, um??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 11:00:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6655333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literallyepsilon/pseuds/greenfelix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kenma had never believed in the old stories told by old wives and men out at sea - but when he experiences it for himself, and meets a boy, over and over again - maybe he should start believing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	realities change

**Author's Note:**

> hi there ovo!! this is my first hq fanfic!! i wrote this in like a day or two haha.... i hope you like it!! come follow me for more stuff on tumblr at green--felix :)

In the past, there had been many stories told by old wives and men out at sea, and then repeated by parents to discourage their children from dangers. The moral of these stories were often along the lines of ‘There are many places out there that deviate from reality, and you don't want to be caught in one of them.'   
  
Kenma Kozume, like many other children, had never believed these old wives' tales. He had never believed in the fact that something could deviate from normal that much that people feared it. Despite this disbelief, Kenma had never wanted to go out and prove his thoughts. He had never wanted to find out what would happen if he just lingered a little longer in the laundromat at night, never cared for the quiet trails beside the highways, and never wanted to come to an empty school during his summer holidays.    
  
But one day, as if by fate, Kenma Kozume finds himself standing outside an empty, unlit lighthouse, body soaking from the relentless torrential rain, and shivering beyond control.    
  
He didn't have a choice. It was either die out here, or stay warm inside.

Kenma pushes the door open, hands shaking by his sides as he revels in the warmth. There's no light here, but he makes do with the light from his smartphone.    
  
He settles himself in a corner, holding the smartphone in front of him like a beacon, and feels his body growing weak and heavy. His head tips back against the wall, and the phone topples out of his hand as he succumbs to exhaustion.

When Kenma wakes, he's warm.    
  
His head is in someone's lap. Above him, someone is singing. 

" **_Flower gleam and glow, let the power shine, make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine..._ ** Oh! You're awake."   
  
Kenma snaps to attention, and the boy beams, orange hair framing his face an angel, came to save him from certain death.

"I thought you were dead there - I was really scared!" the boy laughs. "Kenma, you're scary."   
"H-How do - how do you know my name?" Kenma asks, staring up at him. "Who are you?"   
"Oh, I'm nothing important." the boy says, running a warm, soothing hand across Kenma's forehead. "I'm just here to help!"   
"But how do you know my name?" Kenma repeats, and the boy smiles, letting the hand on his forehead slip down his cheek.    
"That's a story for another time, Kenma. Maybe another time."    
  
And then, the boy kisses him, soft and gentle as the sun rises in the horizon.   
  
Kenma's eyes snap open again.    
  
He's lying on the floor, smartphone in his hand, and the ghost of the pressure of lips against his own.   
  
He's alone.   
  
In the air, there's a whisper of his name, calling to him.

_ Maybe another time? _

* * *

 

It's laundry day. Or, more appropriately, it  _ was _ laundry day, due to the fact it's close to 12am and Kenma knows it's  _ much _ too late to go to a regular laundromat.    


However, Kenma knows that there's a twenty-four hour laundromat near where he's staying, and goes to it that night, having drunk down an energy drink to keep him awake. It had never been too difficult to stay awake, at least not for him, but Kenma wanted to at least be alert while he did his laundry.

He hears the shuffling of a laundry basket next to him, and he turns, curious, to see the orange haired boy again.   


The boy drops his laundry. 

"Kenma." he says, awed. "Kenma, is it really - am I - is this - "   
  
The boy's eyes flicker to the clock, and the smile that was forming across his face drops, and he picks up his laundry. Kenma leans down to help him.    
  
"You're not my Kenma." the boy says as he gathers his laundry. "And am I right in guessing I'm not your Shouyou, either?"   
"I haven't met you before." Kenma says, standing. "How do you know my name? You knew it at the lighthouse, too."   
"The lighthouse?" the boy, Shouyou, furrows his brow as he stands, settling his basket on the machine. "I wasn't at the lighthouse. That must have been a different me."   
"A different you?" Kenma starts to ask, but then the boy seems to remember his earlier statement, and he turns away.    
"I only have until three." Shouyou says, and turns to him. "My name is Hinata Shouyou."   
"Nice to meet you, Shouyou." Kenma says, and Hinata keeps his gaze firmly away.    
"It's kind of scary. I didn't really believe in all of these reality changing stories, but...I get to see you, so..."   
  
Hinata turns to him, and Kenma stops, turning to meet his eyes.   
  
"Shouyou, are you - "   
"I'm really happy, Kenma. So just let me pretend, a little, okay?"   
  
Kenma and Hinata go back to their laundry, almost in silence, and Kenma doesn't have to look up to know Hinata's staring at him.    
  
"...What do you mean that was a different you?" Kenma asks eventually, and Hinata sighs.

"You know the old wives tales? Reality alters, and all that? Yeah, it's real. In these places, at those times, reality changes! Like just now, I was just doing my laundry when  _ gwah _ , or  _ pah _ \- reality changes, and you were there." Hinata says.    
  
_ Is it gwah or pah? _ Kenma thinks, as Hinata goes on.    
  
"Like the me you saw at the lighthouse might have been a different me." Hinata shrugs. "You know. For me, at least this me, it's the 1950s."   
"The 1950s? That's definitely not my year." Kenma replies, shock settling in. "Are you joking?"   
"If I were, I'd be happy." Hinata replies solemnly. "It only seems to happen to those who don’t have their soulmate, though. Like for me, you died three years ago. And for you, you haven't met me yet. Right?"   
"...Right." Kenma says. "But that means - "   
"Even lighthouse me has lost you too."   
  
Hinata folds his laundry so neatly and precisely it's almost scary.    
  
"...You must be lonely." Kenma starts, and Hinata turns to him.    
"Yeah, Kenma. I am, a little." Hinata smiles briefly before turning back to his laundry. "But it's okay. I'm happy to meet you again and again like this.”

Kenma wonders how Hinata can take it, seeing the face of someone he lost over and over again like this, and reaches out and takes his hand.    
  
They go on like this, until it's three am and Hinata is gone, and Kenma can still feel the warmth of his hand. 

* * *

Sometime in the later months, Kenma falls sick. In worry, his roommates send him to the hospital, hoping the doctors can do something about it.

Kenma tries to tell them it's just a fever, but his roommates and the doctors, won't have it. According to his roommates, there’s a horrible bug going around that is making people fall deathly sick, and they can't risk that with their  precious  roommate.

He stays in the hospital that night, tired eyes staring across at the clock as it slowly reaches that witching hour, that one part of the night, and Kenma can only hope that he appears again.    
  
The clock strikes twelve, and the door opens, and a doctor comes in, looking down at the clipboard in his hand, and then up at the patient in front of him.    
  
"Kenma," Hinata says quietly, and Kenma turns to him tiredly, eyes barely opening. "Welcome back."   
"Have I been here before?" Kenma asks, mind reeling. "My head hurts."   
"I'll get you some aspirin."   
  
Hinata sounds older this time, much older than the other Hinatas he met. Kenma lies back against the soft pillow, eyes closing to soothe the exhaustion in his bones.    
  
"You're having a fever." Hinata says. "How long?"   
"Two days." Kenma replies.    
"Tell them to put you on the blue pill. They'll understand."    
"Shouyou - "   
  
Hinata stops, and turns to Kenma. He can see him shaking.    
  
"You know, don't you?" Hinata says. "You know about the wives tales."   
"It's not the first time, Shouyou." Kenma replies. "What happened to me this time?"   
"...You got a fever.”

The pudding head stops, hand pressing against his forehead as if to check. Hinata smiles involuntarily at the action.

"I only found the cure at the end, when you were..." Hinata stops, and then looks away. "Well, I know it now. Did anything - "   
"I haven't met you yet."   
"...That's a relief. Maybe you can start your own kind of story with the me you meet."   
"Yeah."   
  
Kenma's quiet again, leaning further back against the pillows and letting his eyes close. Hinata moves to sit on the side of Kenma's bed, lifting a hand to his cheek.    
  
"You're older than the rest." Kenma says as he feels the warmth on his cheek. "Why?"   
"It took me longer to meet you." Hinata says. "And when I did it was because you got sick, of course..."   
"Ah." Kenma's silent again, and then he opens his eyes. "I'm sorry."   
"Don't be. You can't control your sickness." Hinata soothes, running a cold hand over his forehead. "Just get better for me and your Hinata, whenever you meet him, okay?"   
  
Kenma nods, and Hinata leans down, pressing a warm kiss against his forehead.    
  
"Remember, the blue pill." Hinata says, moving to the door. "Goodnight, Kenma."   
"Goodnight, Shouyou."   
  
Hinata leaves the room, and Kenma falls back against the pillows, eyes closing immediately, and falls into deep sleep.    
  
When he wakes the next day, he tells the nurse in the room to try the blue pill. He doesn't know why she listens, but she does, and he gets better nearly explosively.    
  
As he leaves the hospital, he swears he can see Hinata smiling from one of the windows as he's driven away.    
  


* * *

Three months later, Kenma finds the attic. The room is dusty and full of the oldest things that Kenma has ever seen, and he declares this room his. His roommates don't fight it. No one  _ wants _ to be in the attic anyway.    
  
Kenma constantly makes time to be there, amongst the old things and the nostalgic feelings and the constant question that burns in the back of his mind - will he be here this time?   
  
One day, he is.    
  
Kenma is running up to the attic in the early hours of 5am, and Hinata is sitting there, dressed in period clothing and looking slightly confused. When Hinata meets his eyes, Kenma can see the other start to cry.    
  
"Shouyou, don't - “ he begins, but Hinata's already crying and he can't stop it.    
"Kenma - the war - “ Hinata says as he grabs Kenma's hand and pulls him close. "Let me pretend, Kenma, oh, the war - "   
"It's okay, Shouyou."   
  
Kenma has become used to this. Hinata would appear, lament the loss of the Kenma they knew, and then hug him, or talk to him, or ask questions about the future. Kenma was happy to provide, despite the fact he still didn't really know Hinata Shouyou all that well yet.    
  
"What year?" Kenma whispers, and Hinata nuzzles his head into Kenma's neck.   
"1917." Hinata says. "1917. We're...fighting a war. I don't want to let go."   
"Don't."   
  
Kenma holds Hinata, and lets the smaller boy cry.    
  
He doesn't remember World War One that well. He doesn't remember what his history class taught them about the war, but he knows enough to remember it was really, really bad.    
  
Hinata feels so small. He feels small, and scared, and hurt.   
  
Kenma doesn't want to let him go, either.   
  
"I'm sorry, I should have told you to stay." Hinata says. "You shouldn't have gone to the war, Kenma, you should have stayed with me - "   
  
Hinata sounds broken. Kenma hates it, hates the darkness that sounds nothing like the boy that he barely knows.    
  
And yet, he feels like he  _ knows _ Hinata, through all these interactions with different versions of him, and all these stories that they sometimes told him, especially the love stories. The love stories brought him into the deepest realms of his imagination, making him hope that maybe, he too could have something like that.    
  
He could feel Hinata fading away, and the gentle pressure of lips against his own - ah, so it was another love story - and the war torn boy of sunlight was gone, leaving Kenma alone in the attic, sunlight streaming through the window.    
  
Kenma had become used to this, but he would never be used to the kisses. Each one was different - back in the lighthouse, that kiss was soothing warmth. The one from the doctor was protection, a reminder.    
  
This one was a goodbye.   
  
Kenma stared at the area where Hinata was for a few moments longer, and then closed his eyes, getting to his feet. He still had a day to go through, and the feeling of cold lips against his would remain by his side the entire day.   
  


* * *

It’s ten pm, and Kenma is sitting on a lone swing in the playground nearby his home. He's been sitting there for approximately two or so hours now, looking up at the stars dotted across the sky. He may be a little drunk, and definitely tired. 

He takes a sip of the coffee in his hand.

The swing set next to him comes to life, and he turns to see Hinata there, staring up at the sky with him. 

“We used to come here, you and me.” Hinata says, without batting an eye. “We’d come here and look up at the stars, and match the constellations to the tattoos on Yamaguchi’s skin.”

Hinata is prim and proper, and wearing things that Kenma had only ever seen on mobsters on American TV shows. Kenma keeps staring as Hinata continues to talk.

“I'm in the same year as you, Kenma, isn't that nice?” Hinata’s voice holds malice, and it scares him.   
“Yeah.” Kenma agrees nonetheless. “It is.”  
“You're my bodyguard. I'm the newest recruit of the Karasuno mob. You were a double agent. And then we killed you.”

_ Brutal,  _ Kenma finds himself thinking.  _ Really, really brutal. _

“But I loved you.” Hinata says. “I still do. I love you. But when it comes to snitches we do what we have to, don't you agree?”

Kenma nods, staring up at the sky again. 

“I haven't met you yet,” he says, and Hinata goes still next to him. “But when I do, I'm going to make sure I don't do anything to hurt him.”

His mind goes back to the Hinatas left behind, the smiles he got from some that were clearly faked, the tears, and the empty promises that sometimes they made, to soothe Hinata’s suffering for just a few moments. 

“Sounds good.” Hinata says, and Kenma turns to him. 

Hinata is smiling, and this smile is genuine. It makes Kenma feel like he's staring into blinding sunlight. This was the kind of smile that fit on a face like Hinata’s, bright and happy and full of energy. This was the kind of smile that Kenma always wanted to see on his face.

“Shouyou.” Kenma says, and Hinata looks over at him. “What was it like? Dating, I mean.”

The smile softens slightly. Hinata looks away, brown eyes focused on another part of the playground. Kenma doesn't know how much time he has.

“It felt - It  _ feels _ like life.” Hinata says seriously. “It felt like life, because life is happy, and sad, and makes you really angry. But I was happy most of the time. I think you were, too. At least, I hope you were.”  
“...I may not be that Kenma, but I think I was.” 

Hinata smiles again, that precious smile full of sunshine and laughter, and fades away in the wind.

Kenma turns his gaze back to the sky, and counts the stars. 

* * *

It is winter, and Kenma Kozume has finally made it to college. He's moved from his home in Tokyo to a smaller town called Miyagi, where he had once heard a famous volleyball player used to live. It's a smaller town, and Kenma is happier here.

His roommates, his friends, often drop by and pay him visits, and Kenma is always happy when they do. Sometimes, Kenma goes to odd places in Miyagi, near his college, to see if his mysterious orange haired gentleman will appear there. Most of the time he's unlucky, but every now and then a familiar face will appear, and Kenma gets to hear another story.

Today was no different. Kenma had raced outside into the snow, enjoying the feeling of freshly fallen snow at 5am, where no one else was out and going to ruin this for him. 

He doesn't feel him. 

But suddenly there he is, a scarf wrapped around his neck and looking lost and freezing in the cold. 

“Hi, I study here, can you - “ Hinata begins, and then stops, and stares. “Oh my God! I found you!”  
“What?” Kenma asks as he stands.   
“I found you! You're my Kenma, right?!” Hinata is bouncing, on the balls of his feet. “You're my Kenma, right? You haven't lost me yet,  _ right _ ?”

Kenma realises, with surprising glee, that this Hinata -  _ his  _ Hinata - had gone through exactly the same situation he had gone through. Hinata takes his hands, sunshiney smile wide across his face and lighting up the entire world around him. 

Kenma feels like he's losing the other Hinatas, but he doesn't care. Hinata,  _ his  _ Hinata...is standing in front of him, smiling and saying his name like he was the world. 

He kisses him. 

Hinata kisses him back, squeezing his hands tighter.

The world fades away, and Kenma feels, ever so slightly, at peace with the world, and the endless amounts of alternate realities that could have existed.

He feels at peace with the old wives tales that he now swears to never doubt.

He feels at peace with himself, and the boy he had finally realised he loved. 

And that's enough, because when he looks at all the alternate realities he has seen, he would prefer only this one, where Hinata’s lips are gentle against his own, and Kenma is holding him like his life may end if he lets go. 

This is enough.


End file.
